


Bear Me Flowers

by ImperialMint



Category: One Piece
Genre: Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialMint/pseuds/ImperialMint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They first meet when Marco is young, and a creature helps him through his fear, and Marco expects never to see the beast again. He is wrong, however, and their second meeting will change his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bear Me Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the OPHalloween Fanfic Challenge on tumbr, thank you to the amazing Stirling Phoenix for organising such a lovely event. Betaed by the wonderful lunarshores.

Festival lights gleam overhead as Marco looks around, eyes wide and laughter bubbling from his throat. It’s been an entire year since Marco was here last, and he cannot hide his happiness, riding on his father’s shoulders as his family tour the festival stalls.

“Marco!” someone screams, and Marco looks down, wiggling in excitement as he spots his school friends. Whitey is holding Izo’s hand tightly, waving at him with the other. “They have crazy beasts!”

They run off giggling, and Marco’s father sets him down. His parents tell him to be careful, and Marco nods dutifully, shuffling in place in eagerness to join his friends. He takes off like a whippet when they say he can, laughing almost manically by the time he joins the crowds by the beast tent.

“Marco, Marco!” Izo calls, hand still clenched tightly with Whitey’s. “Hold my hand!”

Izo hates big animals, and Marco is a strong man. He’ll protect his friends, no matter what crazy beasts the festival has.

The beasts aren’t that crazy, as it turns out. They’re in little cages and only bother to move when their space is invaded or their ‘carers’ rattle their cages. Marco looks at them all in fascination, at animals he’s only seen in picture books and on the TV, mouth wide.

He doesn’t realise it, but he gets separated from Whitey and Izo at one point, more interested in the glimmer of festival lanterns in an okapi’s eyes than his promise of protection. Izo will be fine, Marco thinks when his thoughts catch up, and he moves onto the deadly tent.

Only the truly brave would dare enter this part. Marco puffs his chest out, and no one stops him – therefore he must be a very brave man indeed. He is expecting ferocious lions and deadly wolves, and what greets Marco actually lives up to his expectations.

This tent is less busy than the others, and there is one creature that dominates it. It looks like a wolf, but is closer in size to a van, at least three times over that of a normal wolf. There is also a softer edge to it, a rounder muzzle and softer fur, closer to a dog than a wolf of the wild.

Other people share uneasy glances when they look away from the wolf-creature, but Marco has no qualms in walking up to the cage, frowning at how the creature can hardly move.

“I’m not afraid,” he says quietly, and the wolf looks at him, turning its huge head. It stares a Marco with wide, dark eyes, and Marco doesn’t see a savage beast. He sees a scared one, one that wants nothing more than to go home.

“Hello,” Marco says, glancing around. No one seems to care what he’s up to, and Marco slips a hand inside the cage, watching the wolf carefully, just in case. He has a dog at home; he knows when dogs are unhappy.

The wolf lowers its head, puff of air breezing over Marco’s fingers, followed by a rough tongue. Marco doesn’t hesitate to stroke the wolf’s muzzle. The fur is soft, and he smiles in amazement, though the moment doesn’t last long.

“Marco!” someone screeches, and Marco snatches his hand from the cage. His cheeks flush as everyone turns to look at him, Izo’s call of worry alerting them to the fact a young child is alone with the supposed ferocious monster of the wilds.

“Get back from there!” someone calls, and Marco hurries over to his friend, bumping into Izo harshly as he passes.

“What was that for?” Izo says, eyes narrow, ready for a fight.

“You ruined it,” Marco says, and he feels tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. He won’t cry though, Izo can’t have ruined it entirely. Marco can go back when everyone’s looking at the fireworks…

“Sorry,” Izo mumbles, looking down as they exit the animal tents. He is shaking, and Marco realises that Whitey isn’t around. Izo was left alone.

“Sorry too,” he replies. “Let’s go find my dad: he’ll get us some food!”

The offer brightened Izo’s features, and he nodded. Marco knew he’d come here with Whitey and so vowed that they’d find their friend later – after they’d had something to eat. The smells of the festival were causing Marco’s stomach, and it wasn’t long before his parents were buying them food, getting ready to head over to the fireworks’ site.

“I want to try and get a goldfish,” Marco announces. Izo blinks in suspicion, but his parents let him go, with promises to meet up by the goldfish stand once the fireworks were over. Marco promises, and he’s allowed to wander – the festival isn’t so big, and he knows most of the people here, all from the same small town.

His point of return is the wolf. There is nowhere else Marco can think of, and the wolf looks up from where is lays on its side, ears pricking forward in interest as Marco approaches once more.

“Sorry about earlier,” he said, reaching to play with some straw that lined the wolf’s cage. “I had to come back. I hope you don’t mind.”

Marco tilts his head and looks at the wolf, smiling. “So how did they catch you? You look like you could just eat them all up!” He laughs, though he is curious. If only animals could talk!

The wolf whines, moving until its nose is pressed against the door of the cage. The lock is a simple bolt, no padlock or anything. If he wishes to, Marco can open it there and then. He has a strange urge to do just that.

“I think I should go now,” Marco says, suddenly aware that they are alone. No one, not even the people who care for the animals, is around. A boom sounds above them, signalling the start to the fireworks and shuddering through Marco’s body.

There is another reason he didn’t want to see the fireworks. Marco hates the noise. It’s too loud, and his body quivers, the urge to hide unbearable. He covers his ears as the tent lightens, shadows dancing across the wolf’s dark fur. The wolf stands, raising paw that is easily as big as Marco’s head, clawing at the lock.

For some reason, Marco understands. Shaky hands unbolt the cage, and the door swings open, screech hidden from the world as another firework booms over them. Marco’s heart jumps, and he lets out a noise of distress. He wants his mother or his father, anyone, and he feels soft fur encircle his body, muffling the sounds of fireworks and comforting him.

Marco can hear a steady beat, the wolf’s heart. He burrows his head into the fur and is surprised at the clean smell. The beast is warm and smells a little of woodsmoke and charcoal. Marco’s hands dig into the fur, wrapping over warm flesh, and they remain like that, outside of the cage with the wolf protecting Marco from his fear.

A cheer erupts, and Marco knows it’s the grand finale. He pushes the wolf away with wide eyes, knowing that if it stays here, it’ll be caught.

“You have to go,” Marco says, his knees shaking a little. He is brave, though, and not scared of fireworks after the wolf showed him such kindness. He can handle the noises if the wolf is safe. “If you stay here, they’ll put you back in that cage.”

The wolf unwraps itself from Marco, head rubbing against Marco’s torso before it turns, leaping forwards and out of the tent in one huge bound, air rippling Marco’s clothes as it passes over him. The noises of the fireworks feel far away, and he leaves the tent quickly, moving to the goldfish stand and beaming.

His parents assume he’s won a fish from the look on his face, but when Marco turns up empty handed, they shrug. They tell him that Izo found Whitey and her parents, and that now it’s time to go home – did he have fun tonight?

Marco did have fun, thinking of the wolf that was most definitely not just a wolf.

**.**

Marco sighs as his mother looks his way, worry furrowing her brow. She looks older wearing it so plainly on her face. It’ll be the death of her one day, Marco’s certain, for she worries about him too much, and for the smallest things.

“Isn’t it too soon?” she asks, lips pressing together as she leans an elbow on the table, steam from her tea curling up her forearm. “Moby died only a week or so ago.”

Marco nods. This is his decision, and he made it the night he had to bury his beloved dog. He’d been an old dog, and so it wasn’t a surprise when he’d slipped away. There is a gap in Marco’s life now though, and it can only be filled with a new dog.

“A puppy is a big responsibility, and you’re on your own now.” His mother continues. Marco ignores her and looks at his laptop, turning it so she could see it too.

“This shelter is a good one,” he says, scrolling through a few puppy images, and his mother begins to warm to the idea.

“Oh look at that one!” she says, finger poking the screen, over an image of a floppy eared pup. She’s easy to sway, though she pretends not to be.

It’s evening when Marco eventually heads to the dog shelter. It’s raining something fierce outside, and he runs the short distance to the shelter from his car, drenched by the time he opens the door.

“Hello there,” someone greets him, passing him a towel. Marco is surprised, and the woman shrugs her shoulders. “Our dog walkers have been coming back soaked so we have lots of towels.”

They breeze through questionnaires Marco needs to fill out, and he’s already done the heavy paperwork and all the right checks. Today he is literally taking his dog home – once he’s found it of course.

Marco chats easily to the staff as he wanders around. The puppies peer up at him, barking loudly when Marco wiggles his fingers in their direction. He wants to take them, but there is something stopping him, an uneasy weight in his chest, and Marco continues on.

The woman he’s with grows quiet as Marco walks towards the end of the kennels. Most of them are empty, but Marco can see the shadow of something pacing at the end.

“Sir,” the woman says hesitantly, and Marco turns to her, pausing just before he can see the last kennel. “That dog… it’s a special case.” She bites her lip, clearly uncomfortable.

Although it is far smaller than when Marco last saw it, he knows this animal is no ordinary dog. Its fur is dark and shaggy. It is easily as large as a Great Dane, an overwhelming presence surrounding it.

“It’s to be put to sleep,” the woman whispers as she steps beside Marco. “It passed placement tests, but… it seems to hate everyone who looks at it twice.”

Marco has a sudden feeling that it’s not that the dog hates everyone, it’s just waiting for the right someone.

“I’d like to try,” Marco says, and the woman hesitates, worry lines deep on her forehead. She sighs, though, and moves to unlock the kennel.

The dog raises its hackles instantly, the key turning in the lock. It glares at Marco, but he doesn’t back down. If he’s right – and he has to be, he’ll never be able to forget the creature that protected him from the boom of fireworks – then Marco has nothing to fear.

The woman shakily slips a lead on the dog, and brings it out, warning Marco to stay back. He waits, the woman leading the dog in a circle a few times in effort to try and calm it. It doesn’t work, and the dog’s lead slips from her grasp, its muscles rippling under thick fur as it launches itself at Marco.

Marco hears the woman cry out in shock, but he steels himself, smiling as the dog jumps up at him, tail wagging and heavy paws resting on Marco’s shoulders. The dog licks his face, and Marco wrinkles his nose, the scent of firesmoke clinging to the dog. It is the very same beast from before, it has to be.

“Oh,” is all the woman can say, and Marco pushes the dog down. It snuffles at his hands, sitting peacefully as if it was raised by Marco. 

“I’d like to take this one,” Marco says, resting a hand on the dog’s fur. It’s soft, the exact same fur that had blocked out Marco’s fear.

The woman bites her lip, asking for Marco to bring the dog to the offices out of public sight. They walk corridors pattered with photographs of dogs that have been rehomed. The dog bumps against his leg, and Marco curls his hand in its hair. He’s going to take this dog, even if he has to return again and again.

The manager looks at Marco with disbelief, eyes darting to the dog. They shake their head and order Marco to perform various tasks with his new friend. The dog does them perfectly, tail wagging every time Marco speaks.

There is no reason why they cannot give him the dog. This dog hasn’t got a ban on it, and so they do allow Marco ownership. They give him plenty of warnings, but no one can deny the fact that the dog obeys him as if Marco has raised him. It sits dutifully the entire time, nothing like the savage beast the workers painted it to be.

Marco knows it could be, though. He knows this beast is capable of growing and surviving on its own for over a decade. It could probably take them all down now but instead its tongue lolls out of its mouth as it sets its head on Marco’s lap, completely at peace.

They let him take the dog that night, asking that he phone them tomorrow. They don’t try to hide it under something else; it’s clear they want to check to see he’s survived the dog. Marco promises to call, and they finally allow him to leave.

There is a bit of a disagreement when Marco opens the door of his car. The dog looks at him when he tries to get it to sit in the back, but it finally gets in, with a lot of pushing and pulling from Marco. He shuts the door and walks to the driver’s side, opening the door and stopping dead as he sees the huge dog settling itself on the front seat.

“What are you doing?” Marco says. The dog doesn’t look comfortable, but it sits back defiantly, making a statement.

“Fine,” Marco mutters. He’s not about to get into an argument with this beast. If it wants to be uncomfortable in the front seat then he’ll allow it.

When they get home, the dog heads straight for one of the sofas, and Marco doesn’t have the heart to try and force it off the furniture. He heads to the kitchen instead, unpacking the box he’d been given from the shelter, and sets about making his dog’s dinner. He has some of his old dog’s food left, and he pours biscuits in a bowl.

“Dinner!” he calls, wondering if the dog will understand. It does, and it comes bounding in, a bounce in the way it moves. It stops by the bowl and looks down, glancing up at Marco in what can only be described as disgust.

The dog huffs, and Marco sighs.

“Fussy one aren’t you,” he says, ruffling the top of the dog’s head. A huge paw comes to bat Marco playfully, and he decides to sit down in front of the dog.

Marco wants to see it how it was before, in the huge form it had taken when he was younger. He knows it’s the same creature, but he needs the proof.

“Can you change shape?” he asks, and the dog goes from looking annoyed to interested, wary even. “Into the creature you were before, when we met?”

The dog takes a step back, and Marco thinks it’s about to wander off when the air in the room shifts. Everything becomes tighter, the pressure of a storm building inside Marco’s kitchen. Something big is coming, and darkness fills the room.

The dog – though Marco really needs to think of a better way to describe the creature – fills the entire room. It is crouched low, wrapped around Marco. Its head is easily as long as half of Marco’s body, and it is squished in the room, eyes closed in what Marco thinks is discomfort.

Its fur is as dark as he can remember, and Marco looks in wonder when the beast moves, legs slipping off of the kitchen counters and body stretching upwards. It is able to stand comfortably in the room with some shifting, and turns its head to look at Marco.

It definitely has a canine form, though it’s not like a wolf. Its muzzle is a little too wide, ears a little too rounded, and then there is the size of course. And the colour, for the fur isn’t just black now that Marco can see it.

Specks of orange, all tones of orange, from neon to pastel, are splattered like paint flecks through the beast’s coat. They seem to glimmer, though there is no light to reflect on the beast’s coat, and Marco reaches out to touch them, the tiny spots warm and flickering like fire under Marco’s touch.

“What are you?” Marco wonders aloud, and the beast huffs, pushing Marco away with its muzzle. It appears to laugh, showing its teeth off.

“I’ll tell you if you feed me something better than that mess,” it says, and Marco’s heart jumps in his chest. He knows this creature isn’t something ordinary, but even with its shape shifting, he’d never considered it could talk.

“Don’t tell me that’s what pushed you over,” the beast mutters, before the pressure returns to the room, and it shifts again, dog appearing and sitting. Marco looks down at it, eyes wide.

“I can talk,” it says, tilting its head. “You humans think you’re so precious and the only ones to talk. Your language is easy.”

Well then.

“I think I need to lie down,” Marco says, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead. He isn’t sure he can cope with his magical talking dog just yet.

He enters the lounge and sits on the sofa, taking a deep breath. The dog doesn’t follow, thankfully, and Marco thinks about what exactly he has sharing his house.

It’s a wild creature he first met when he was younger. It had protected him when Marco was scared and had vanished after that night at the festival. It can shape shift and talk too. It’s… different to any other animal Marco has ever heard of.

“Right,” he says when he enters the kitchen again, trying to keep an open mind. He can deal with a shape shifting, talking dog as his pet. He can. “So you can talk.”

The dog looks at him lazily, nodding its head. “My name’s Ace, by the way.”

Ace the shapeshifting, talking dog then.

“Okay,” Marco says, taking a deep breath as he opens the fridge. “What do shapeshifting, talking dogs eat?”

Ace scratches behind an ear with his hind paw, licking his lips when he’s done. He really could pass for a normal dog, Marco thinks. Was he some kind of science experiment?

“Technically I’m a demon, and demons eat whatever they want.” Ace puffs his chest out proudly, and Marco closes the fridge door heavily.

“Demon,” he says flatly. “Demons don’t exist.”

Ace rolls his eyes.

“We’re not like your movies and stuff portray us, but demons and angels do exist. We’re the afterlife, relics leftover from the human worlds of the past. We have what you call ghosts, but most of those who live in the skies or the earth were never fully human.” Ace glances at the fridge, but he seems to sense that he’s not getting food until he explains everything to Marco.

“Fine,” he mutters, and Marco should find it odd that his giant dog-demon is about to explain that heaven and hell actually exist, but he feels strangely calm.

“This world exists on two plains. You have your world – the mundane world – and then you have my world. My species were tasked with protecting your world, but you humans make it too difficult for the most part.” Ace slides down, facing the fridge. “Mostly, what you call spirits, demons, angels, everything like that, we just visit here for fun. Some try to stir up trouble, but we can usually stop them before they do any proper harm.”

Marco nods. That seems pretty understandable. He’s always believed in spirits and otherworldly creatures – it’s hard not to when a giant beast helps you when you’re a child – and he’s always known there has to be something more than what they have. He would be exceedingly arrogant if he thought that earth was all there is to life.

“What you call heaven and hell are just two places. One is our earth, the other is our sky. Good and bad exists in both places, but you humans seem to think that barriers will stop us.” Ace sits up, claws scratching on the floor.

“I live on the earth,” he continues, and Marco realises he’s never felt scared when talking to this demon. Ace is nice. “I only ever come to this world when I’m bored, though usually someone comes to find me quickly.”

Ace whines, setting his head on the floor.

“Rayleigh’s so strict, no matter where I am he always finds me.” If Marco didn’t know better, he’d say Ace is pouting. “Says I’ll only end up in trouble if I keep running to the human world.”

“He’s right though,” Marco can’t help but point out. “They were going to put you down at the kennel.”

Ace’s tail curls around him, and he looks up at Marco pathetically.

“I thought Rayleigh would be there,” he says softly. “Someone always saves me. It’s either you or Rayleigh.” His tail wags slowly, and Marco sighs, standing and heading to the fridge.

“So this Rayleigh… is he going to come and pick you up anytime soon?” Marco asks, reaching into the fridge for some steaks. He’ll grill them up with some potatoes or something. Ace should enjoy it.

“Nope,” Ace says, at Marco’s heels, nose in the air. He’s within reach of the steaks, but he doesn’t make for them, something Marco is grateful for. It would have been too much work to keep food from Ace, especially as he understands humans. Hiding the food somewhere would have fooled a dog, but not Ace.

“You gave me permission to enter, he won’t consider I made a friend and found somewhere like that to hide.” Ace sits down as Marco works on dinner. “Your spirit is tangled with mine at the moment. Rayleigh will be looking for a distress wavelength.”

Ace yawns, and they grow silent, Marco finishing up dinner quickly. He plates the steaks up, automatically heading for the table.

“Oh,” he says when he realises that Ace can’t sit like a human. “Sorry,” he adds, setting the plate on the floor.

If he’d been expecting Ace to have some manners, Marco is sorely disappointed. He is every bit the dog he looks like as he wolfs down the food, chomping noisily.

“That was great Marco,” he says, lying down when he’s finished. Marco still has an almost-full plate, and he raises an eyebrow. “They’ve been feeding me the most disgusting biscuits that have ever been made. I mean, the scary beast show even fed me better than them.”

And, just like that, life settles easily. Marco’s house isn’t missing a dog anymore, but this dog talks. It’s hard to remember not to speak to Ace when they’re out, and Marco does catch himself asking Ace questions here and there. Most people smile when he lets the questions slip, thinking him an extremely committed owner, and Ace just bumps his side, laughing at him in the privacy of their home.

It’s about a month and a half after they began living together that Marco comes home to Ace in full beast mode, stalking about the living room. There is enough space for him to move freely in that form, and Marco often sits resting against his side, the two of them watching TV, as Ace says he feels happier in that form. Today, however, Ace looks far from relaxed.

“Ace?” Marco calls, and Ace pauses. His fire-flecks are darker today, his eyes narrowed and body tense.

“There is something watching the house,” Ace says instantly, eyes fixed on the front door as Marco walks closer to him. “Something bad.”

The hairs on Marco’s arms rise and he steps closer to Ace, wrapping his arms around his huge neck. He is engulfed by warm, smoke-scented fur and feels more at ease straight away. His hand presses in deep against soft, warm skin, and he closes his eyes, Ace curling against him.

“I brought it here,” Ace says quietly. He tucks his head against Marco’s back, pressing him close in what can only be described as a hug. “I should leave and take it with me.”

The thought of Ace leaving makes Marco’s stomach turn, and he pulls back, eyes wide. They have an unconventional relationship, and while Marco suspected something had to change one day, he never thought he’d have to see Ace leave his house.

“Or you could stay here,” Marco says, and he feels Ace quiver around him, as if his hopes had been realised. “I don’t want you to leave. We can handle whatever is out there together.”

Ace thinks for a moment, and then he pulls back from Marco. His eyes are brimming with determination and he turns to the door.

“Open it,” he commands Marco, and Marco does, peering out of his front door. He cannot see anything out of place, but a growl sounds behind him, and Ace shoots forward, a blur of orange and black, squeezing through the door and jumping into the sky. He is in pursuit of something, and Marco watches until Ace has vanished into the sky.

His heart sinks, and Marco waits. His neighbours peer out from their houses, and one is even brave enough to ask if he is okay. Marco simply nods, stating he’s enjoying the fresh air and the sunset, but in reality he’s tracing the skies desperately for any sign of Ace.

Marco’s worry grows in time with the darkening sky. He keeps searching for Ace, though he knows he’ll never be able to spot him in this darkness. Marco stands shakily, joints and muscles protesting, and it finally occurs to him just how long he’s been sitting on his front doorstep.

The house is dark and cold, and Marco sets about lighting candles and turning the heating on. Ace usually heats the room up for him- his beast form is incredibly warm- and Marco hasn’t quite realised just how much an impact Ace has made until he has vanished.

He makes dinner, something with lots of meat and vegetables, enough for seconds for both of them. Marco then sits at the table, glad he had never replaced the batteries in the clock above the dishwasher. He doesn’t know if he’d have been able to stand the ticking.

The front door creaks open, and Marco hears someone enter. He freezes, the person who has just entered muttering about making a mess. It isn’t Ace, the person is human, and Marco reaches for a pan, gripping it tightly in case he needs to use it. What if Ace has failed, and this is the creature he sensed before?

“Something smells good,” the person calls, and Marco hesitates, lowering his pan. Perhaps a neighbour got the wrong house? The voice is unfamiliar so it can’t be any of his family. Marco decides to bite a bullet and exits the kitchen, pan hidden behind his back. Just in case.

The man looks about mid-twenties, with dark hair and muscular build. He is attractive, though the fact he is beaming at Marco doesn’t put a downer on things, but Marco has absolutely no idea who he is. The man also has a few scratches and is bleeding a bit, and worry churns in his stomach.

The pan forgotten on the table, Marco moved to the medical kit in one of the kitchen cupboards. The man is still blabbering on about how hungry he is, and Marco sets the kit down.

“I’m going to help you, but I want to know who you are, and what you’re doing in my house.” Marco keeps his voice even and calm, knowing that this man could have some personal issues and need help. Marco doesn’t want to startle him, and he’s also appreciating the distraction from Ace’s absence.

“Very funny,” the man snorts, laughing. “Come on, hand it over Marco.”

The man reaches for the first aid kit, freezing with his hand halfway across the table. Marco, too, is in a state of surprise, for the man appears to know his name.

“Oh,” the man says, voice heavy. “Right.” He lets his hand fall on the table, palm smacking wood, before he turns to Marco, sheepish look on his face.

“It took me a bit longer to chase the creature away than I had hoped,” the man says, and Marco sighs, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He has a feeling he knows where this is going now. “I used up a lot of energy too and, well, this is actually my true form.”

Ace smiles shakily.

“Tah-dah,” he says, wiggling his fingers and tilting his head. “Demons actually look just like humans, who would have guessed!”

Marco leans an elbow on the table, setting his head into his hands after. He takes a deep breath, trying to focus on what was important.

“You’ve seen me naked,” he says, and Ace lets out a quick noise of agreement. Marco doesn’t miss the happy look on his face either.

“I would have told you, but being in this form means Rayleigh will be able to track me regardless of your presence or not.” Ace reaches for the first aid kit, fetching some cleaning fluid for the scratches across his arms and face. Marco watches him fumble for a few seconds, before he scooches his chair closer and takes over.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Marco ventures, and Ace hums to himself.

“Probably,” Ace mutters, hissing as Marco cleans a particularly deep looking slice on his skin.

Marco doesn’t push him. At this point, he’s probably heard the worst Ace has to offer, and he’s doing okay so far. Marco has dealt with a bunch of teenagers going through their own personal hells before when he’d first moved out from his parents’ home, and Ace… well Marco doesn’t have to try and console a drunk friend after their partner cheated on them. Ace, despite being a demon thing, is simple.

Finishing up cleaning, Marco plates up their dinner and tries hard not to stare at Ace across the table. He can tell now that Ace isn’t an ordinary human. Similar to his beast form, flecks of flame are scattered in his hair and also in place of freckles. At the right angle, they are little cinder sparks, and the illuminate brightly when Ace smiles. Marco’s stomach gets a little wobbly each time they sparkle, Ace telling him an animated story of chasing the intruder off.

“So I think I know who it is. It’s a fairly powerful demon, but it’s more a nuisance than anything. It’s been after me for a while and tends to stick to the shadows, which makes it a bit trickier to get rid of.” Ace scoops up a forkful of vegetables, spearing meat and smiling as he pops a piece in his mouth.

“It slipped away this time, but it won’t be any threat to you.” Ace’s voice is a little muted by the food in his mouth, but Marco doesn’t really care. Ace has been eating as a dog, and this is a much improved step. His manners, considering, are rather amazing.

“It won’t be able to get into the house either,” Ace finishes off. His plate is clean too and he sighs contentedly, patting his belly. “I guess I’ll hang around until Rayleigh comes and picks me up.”

Part of Marco wants to say he’s imagining the hopeful tone in Ace’s voice, but he knows that he’s not imagining it. He sets his fork down, resting an elbow on the table.

“Do you have to go back?” Marco asks, and Ace looks up at him, hesitant smile on his lips. “I enjoy your company, and I’d like to get to know you properly now that you look like a human.”

Ace looks down, lips parting slightly. He begins to speak, but pauses, looking at Marco with a frown.

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about the human world, and I can help teach you. That way, Rayleigh won’t need to worry about you so much when you look around my world, and we get to stay friends for longer.” Marco can see Ace is leaning towards agreeing, and he collects the plates, loading the last of the dishwasher up.

“This is your home though,” Ace says, setting his head on the table. He usually tries to help clean up, but after Marco once let him and ended up with a kitchen almost flooded, he realised the hard way that Ace has no idea how human things actually work.

“I can get a camp bed or something for in the lounge,” Marco says, thinking over the logistics. “Or I can get the spare mattress out from under my bed, and you can sleep on that. It’ll fit in my room with some rearranging.” 

Ace was a dog before so there was never any need to wonder if he’d enjoy sharing a room. Marco still doesn’t mind sharing (he prefers it, to be honest, the product of many nights sharing with non-blood siblings), but he has no idea what Ace prefers.

“If you’re cool with me sharing your room,” Ace says, and Marco nods. He really doesn’t mind, especially if there is some demon wandering around outside. He’ll feel safer knowing Ace is closer.

“There is something I’ve been wondering,” Ace says quietly, and Marco looks over from putting away the leftovers. “I’m not… I’m not intruding, am I? I mean, I’ve been here for a while and you’ve never had… someone, you know, over.”

Marco frowns. He’s had a lot of people over, and Ace enjoyed playing with his family.

“I’ve had lots of people over,” he says, and Ace sinks a little bit. His freckles darken as his cheeks flush, Ace unable to hide his embarrassment.

“I mean,” Ace begins, letting out a huff. “I heard humans always have sex.”

Marco closes the cupboard he was putting something away in and turns to Ace with an eyebrow arched. He hadn’t been expecting Ace to know about human sex, let alone have theories about it.

“Some people do,” he replies, taking a seat at the table. “I’m not that bothered personally.”

Ace perks up a little, offering a small smile.

“I just worry,” he says. “You’ve spent a lot of time helping me, and I know I can’t do much in return.”

Marco doesn’t have a good way to reply to that, so he decides to show Ace what exactly their world is. They stumble through the basics, and soon Ace is helping with dinner and loading dishwashers as if he had been born to do it. He soon makes trips outside by himself too, and makes fast friends with practically everyone at their local shops.

“Also,” Ace says, shopping bags in his hands as they walk back from the small supermarket, “Makino was telling me that they have a bumper order of oranges coming in, and she said she could get us a discount.”

Ace had taken to oranges, so much so that the house seemed permeated with their scent. Marco enjoyed coming home from work to the smell, though he had to admit he was a little tired of eating the oranges.

“I was thinking we could have an orange party – Izo was telling me that it’s your birthday soon and well-“ Ace cut himself off sharply, lip curled. The specks in his hair and his freckles seemed to light up (and they’d discovered that no other humans could see the little fires across Ace’s body), and Ace set the bags on the ground slowly, looking around.

“He’s here,” Ace says.

Marco risks glancing around. They’re on a path that isn’t too used, and no one is here now. If Ace were to shift to his beast form and pursuit the evil spirit, then no one would see.

“I’ll meet you back at the house,” Ace says hurriedly. He is completely serious, and he only ever is when it’s something worth being serious for, so Marco takes his advice. He grabs the bags and begins walking, turning as a huge gust of wind almost knocks him over.

Ace is in full beast form, dark shape clawing the air as he pushes upwards. He is snarling, and Marco walks slowly, eyes focused on Ace as another shape – squatter than Ace, but seeming to ooze shadows from its body – runs up to meet him.

When he can hear people shouting, that’s when Marco turns and begins walking quickly, head down. He tries to ignore the panic of the people around him and how they react to the fight. He doesn’t want to see Ace getting hurt.

Marco will be completely honest. He has grown attached to Ace. He enjoys his company and has learnt many things of the other worlds. Ace has already asked him to come home with him, but Marco declined.

He knows what happens to humans who cross the line. If he goes with Ace, even for just a moment, he won’t be able to return. And no matter how much he grows to care for Ace, he cannot leave his human life. He has a family, both biological and adoptive, whom he loves very dearly, and no matter how much he could ever love Ace, he could never leave them.

Marco unlocks his front door with a sigh. Okay, so perhaps he is a little more than fond of Ace. Perhaps he is wondering if he loves him. He definitely does platonically, but he thinks he wants more than just a platonic bond. He wants to show Ace how much he loves him, but he cannot do so honestly if he hides his feelings.

Still, he’s doomed if he thinks he can love a spirit-demon-whatever-Ace-is. They don’t belong in the same world, and Ace will return to his home just as Marco will stay here. He sets the bags down on the floor by the door and turns to close it, when a huge plume of fire shoots up into the sky, the source a dark ball where Ace had been fighting the other demon.

“Ace,” Marco whispers, and he runs, leaving the door wide open. He doesn’t care. Everyone is too transfixed by the flames to notice, and if anyone wants to steal something, then Marco will risk if it if means he can get to Ace’s side. The flames can’t be a good sign, after all.

People are staring up at the sky, and Marco manages to head to where he’d split from Ace. There is no sign of him, even in the skies, and Marco feels panic build in his chest. What happens to demons if they get hurt? What happens when they die? Marco should have asked Ace. He should be able to help instead of standing in the middle of a path searching desperately.

“Ace,” Marco calls, worry soaking the one syllable. He clenches his hands tightly, and this is the scariest moment of his life. Marco would face a million fireworks if he could find Ace right now, alone too, but he doesn’t find Ace.

Something else finds him.

It is larger than Ace, easily at least twice as large, and two deep red lines run from its muzzle down the length of its pitch black body. It is as shaggy as Ace, and has a similar body structure, aside from two huge horns on the top of his head. They curl out and then up, thinning until they reach a sharp point, much sharper than any animal on earth ever has their horns.

Marco remains still, hands low. He doesn’t need this creature thinking he is a threat, and it moves towards him slowly, powerfully, completely aware that it has power over Marco.

“Where is Ace?” Marco manages, keeping his breathing steady, even as the beast circles him. He can feel its hot breath, can see the jaws that will crush his body in seconds, but he keeps calm. He thinks of Ace – only of Ace.

“Why are you worried about him?” the creature asks, voice gravelly. It laughs, and it is an ugly sound that makes Marco’s skin crawl. “You are just a human.”

“Where is he?” Marco demands again, and the beast stops. It looks down at him, eyes wide, though there doesn’t appear to be any malice in its eyes. Marco doesn’t understand, and he is about to ask again when he sees another creature appear, a white, deer-looking beast.

It pauses, lowering its head slightly, and Marco’s heart leaps in his chest. On the deer’s huge antlers is Ace, unconscious, but seemingly okay. Marco makes to move towards him – this deer has to be on their side, surely – but a huge paw stops him.

The horned beast peers down at him, and Marco is paralysed. The beast lowers its head, and Marco knows what is coming as the horns near him. His mind drifts to Ace, and he thinks of how excited he’d been, how much love he has for the human world and how much Marco loves him.

The horns touch Marco’s chest and he feels the life drain from him, darkness overtaking him. He closes his eyes as the beast draws back, eyes peering down curiously.

How odd, Marco thinks, and then he isn’t thinking at all.

**.**

Opening his eyes, Marco stretches. He feels well rested and begins thinking about what he’ll cook for breakfast. They should still have some eggs – they really need to go shopping soon – so maybe he can make something fancier than cereal.

Marco turns to Ace’s bed and is surprised to see a surly looking Ace sitting there, knees drawn up to his chest and arms crossed over them. He is busy looking down and hasn’t appeared to have noticed Marco just yet.

No wait. That’s not quite right. They did go shopping yesterday; they should have lots of eggs. And oranges. Maybe Ace will enjoy some freshly squeezed juice.

No. Marco thinks harder. He jolts, breath catching, and Ace’s head snaps up, frown vanishing as he leaps off of his bed, calling Marco’s name. Marco is scrabbling at his covers, practically tearing his shirt from his chest. There were no marks from the beast’s horns, and he looked at Ace, shaking his head in relief.

“I thought the worst,” he admits, and he feels Ace sit on the bed next to him. He reaches for Ace, holding him close as he lets it sink in that they are both okay.

“The worst might still come,” Ace says, his voice tired. Marco pulls back, and thinks of the two beasts that had brought them back here. Ace had said that the evil one was alone and weak but had it been part of a group?

He voices his thoughts, and Ace pulls back, moving to straighten his bed.

“They’re on an entirely different level,” Ace whispers, shoulders sinking as he straightens. “They brought us back here. I haven’t been downstairs yet.”

It seems that if Ace gets his way, they never will go down there either.

“This is my house,” Marco starts, “and you said I can control who enters and who doesn’t?”

Ace nods, curling himself up again and groaning slightly.

“It’s more complicated than that though,” he says, but Marco’s heard enough. These demons shouldn’t be in here: he never gave them the permission to be here, and so he can get rid of them.

Marco leaves the room, ignoring Ace’s calls to try and stop him. The TV is on downstairs, and Marco begins walking down slowly.

“No, it’s ridiculous: why would he leave his life partner just because he’s ill?” The voice is similar to the gravelly voiced beast, and Marco hears the familiar ending music of a popular soap. “Family should stick together!”

There is a huff of annoyance, and Marco crouches down. The beasts have turned to human forms, looking to be two men in their mid-forties or early fifties. One has darker skin, similar to Ace’s, and Marco guesses that he is the horned beast.

“You might as well come down; I promise we won’t bite,” the other man says, and so Marco does go down, looking between the two of them. They look like complete opposites, one with white hair and the other black, but they are in synch, partners.

“We owe you an explanation,” the white haired man – the deer beast – says. Marco crosses his arms over his bare chest, tilting his chin as he walks to the TV. He turns it off and looks at each of the men In turn.

“You do,” he says, imagining that these demons that even Ace is scared of are nothing but his family. He remembers telling off younger individuals of the Whitebeard clan, and these demons are nothing but that. They entered his home without permission and hurt Ace, Marco cannot afford to show his fear or waver in the slightest.

“You entered my home without my permission, and hurt my dear friend. I don’t know who you think you are, but what you have done is unacceptable.” For a moment, the room is tense. The deer-man sits down heavily on the sofa with a smile, and Marco meets his gaze with an even look.

A raucous laugh escapes the other man’s throat, and Marco turns slowly. The man has his head thrown back, absolute look of joy on his face.

“I really like you,” he says, standing. He isn’t quite as tall as Marco, but he holds an impressive, commanding aura. Ace is right when he says that this demon is on an entirely different level.

“My name is Roger,” he says. “And this is Rayleigh. Usually it would just be Rayleigh collecting Ace, but it seems my son has run into a little more trouble than usual.”

They had crossed the subject of family a few times, but Ace had always changed the conversation quickly, and so Marco left the subject alone. He doesn’t understand how Ace feels still, not when he spoke so highly of Rayleigh.

“He managed to get rid of Teach- that demon won’t be terrorising your world anymore.” Roger sounds proud, and Marco knows he is definitely Ace’s father. “He used his most powerful attack, though, and we found him in a bit of trouble.”

“And you wanted to see the reason why Ace didn’t come back,” Rayleigh adds, smiling at Marco.

“Well,” Roger says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not every day my little baby doesn’t want to come home.”

Roger looks incredibly saddened, but Rayleigh simply rolls his eyes.

“He’s young, but he’s not a baby anymore.” Rayleigh laughs, turning back to Marco. “Roger’s been a little… too doting since Ace decided he wanted to discover the human world.”

Roger nods sagely, arms crossed.

“I had to check you weren’t one of those weird ones who think demon blood is special or something,” Roger mutters, uncrossing his arms and throwing one around Marco, leading him to the fridge. “Now, I have a serious question, I’ve heard about this thing called pizza and-“

“We’ll be going now,” Rayleigh says quickly, holding his hand out. He curls his fingers and a spark of white light shoots out, forming an ethereal doorway. He steps through, vanishing instantly, and Roger sighs.

“I can send you a pizza,” Marco offers, feeling a little unhelpful about the entire situation. Roger brightens a little and he smiles, moving towards the portal. 

“Look after my son,” he says, all traces of smiles gone from his face. He loves his son, and Marco respects him for that. “If he wants to live a human’s life, it’s nothing to a demon. Tell him he has my blessing.” Roger’s eyes flick towards the staircase before he steps into the portal, and Marco knows that Ace is there.

Everything falls quiet after the portal fades. Marco takes a deep breath and sits down on the floor, sinking until he is lying down. He has no idea just exactly what his life is anymore, but he can’t say he regrets anything.

“I wish he would just let me live my life,” Ace says, lying on his side, curled against Marco. They’re not touching, but Marco can feel Ace’s warmth, and he shifts closer, until they are pressed together.

“He doesn’t want you to get hurt,” Marco replies, closing his eyes. His floor isn’t exactly comfortable, but he can’t remember being so content before now.

Ace is silent for a long while, and he sighs. Marco sees him smile, belly tightening as his chest lightens. Ace’s freckles are bright, and he looks at Marco with fire flickering in his eyes.

“I think I understand,” he says softly, and he moved closer. Marco meets his kiss halfway, shifting so that Ace moves atop him slightly.

“I’ve got someone who I never want to see hurt,” Ace says, and Marco knows then that he will never be able to share his life with anyone else.

**.**

Marco’s hands shake as he reaches for Ace. He stands up slowly, wheezing at the pain in his joints, and Ace shifts into his beast form, carrying Marco to the circle he’s spent the afternoon drawing.

“Careful,” Ace says, shifting back to his human form. He looks as young as he did when they first met, and while he’s managed to look as if he aged along with Marco, this is the face Marco has always seen, even when his own has changed and become so, so old.

Demons really do live such long lives.

Ace has stayed with him throughout, though, even when Marco finds it hard to walk. Ace takes care of him, and he is so, so lucky to have Ace.

“Ace,” Marco says, voice cracking in his throat. The words seems to take almost all of his energy, and Marco scrunches his eyes tight, trying to ignore the almost unbearable pain in his body.

“Shh Marco,” Ace says, turning worriedly. “Just save your strength.”

Marco agrees, not that he has much choice. He is too old, too tired, but he only needs to hold on a little longer.

“Okay, okay,” Ace says, his freckles blazing. He looks every bit the demon he is, and Marco feels his heart speed up, excitement coiling in his belly. “I’m going to step into my circle now, Marco, so just hold on.”

Ace first told him of the ritual soon after they’d started their relationship. He’s begged Marco to enter a contract with him – it was the only way he’d be able to follow Ace when he died. Marco had always refused, wanting to live his human life as a human.

He decided years ago that he’d make the contract when he was old, and Marco wonders if he left it a little too long. He is too old now, but he will never leave Ace. He can do this.

“I open a contract,” Ace says, from a circle beside Marco’s. They are drawn intricately, the language of Ace’s world glowing as Ace begins the trade.

“I enter the contract,” Marco gasps out, and he feels his energy leave him instantly. He falls back on the ground, Ace shifting to his beast form and towering over him. The last thing Marco sees before his human heart stops is Ace’s warm eyes, his muzzle lowering to comfort Marco in his last moments.

**.**

Marco wakes up warm, and he stretches, the ache in his bones a forgotten relic. He’s young, around forty human years, and he smiles widely.

“How do you feel?” someone asks at his side. A woman is sitting at his bedside, book on her lap. She has freckles like Ace’s across her cheeks, though they shine with blue tints rather than red. Horns similar to Roger’s swirl up from her head, though they are a deep crimson and black, rather than Roger’s burnt orange and soft red ones.

“Good,” Marco says, pushing himself up in bed slowly. He feels… different, but good. Better than he’s felt for a long while. He wonders where Ace is and struggles to look around. It feels like decades since he’s last seen Ace, and Marco needs him.

The woman hums to herself, stretching her arms and closing her book. 

"You'll want to be careful moving at first," she says, and Marco winces as pins and needles climb up his legs. 

"It will take a while to get used to your body, so I'm recommending that you don't do anything too strenuous with my son." She smiles, and Marco knows this has to be Rouge. He's heard a lot about her, and while Roger visited a lot, Marco has never met Rouge before.

Slowly, Marco slides his legs out of the bed, looking down at himself. Ace had warned him that he'd change during the contract, and he wants to see how exactly he has.

His fingers and toes are tinged blue, as if they are cold, and Marco feels a lot more muscular than he has ever been, even in his prime. There is also another addition, and he reaches shaky hands up to feel the horns protruding from his head. 

"The consequences of entering a contract with another," Rouge says gently, reaching for a mirror she's had on the floor. "Take a look."

She is smiling, and Marco reaches out a shaky hand (and oh how strange it is to see skin tight and free of liver spots) to take the mirror. He breathes a little shakily, eyes widening when he sees his horns.

They are dark at the base, but as they stretch up and out, they lighten through red to orange. They scream of Ace, and Marco needs to see him. It's been so long since he's been able to hold Ace properly, age wasn't his friend, but now he doesn't have to worry about such human concerns.

"Be careful with yourself," Rouge says, and she moves to open the door. "We're expecting you for dinner, so make sure you're not late."

It's all Marco needs to hear, and he stands slowly, hobbling rather than walking over to the door.

“Your mind still thinks you are an elderly human,” Rouge says kindly, “It’s all in your mind. You’re not hurting anymore.”

She’s right, Marco thinks, and he straightens his back. It doesn’t work at first, but he takes a deep breath and slowly starts to unlearn what years of old age and chronic pain have taught him. They begin to unravel as his hand turns the door handle down, and he looks out into a corridor, one of what appears to be a standard house.

“Our world is remarkably similar to yours,” Rouge says, as if she knew Marco had been expecting brimstone and lava pits. “Even more so once Roger kept visiting you. We now have all the commodities of modern day earth and then some.”

Roger’s main spurring to install television and internet in their world had been because he always missed a lot of his favourite soaps, not some charitable feat for his people. Rouge probably knows that though, and Marco smiles to himself. He thinks Ace gained a lot of his personality from his mother rather than from his father.

“This is a rehabilitation house,” Rouge calls from behind Marco. He’s in pyjamas only, and his bare feet slap against the wooden floor as he moves towards an open doorway down the hall. He feels as if he can sense Ace, and he hurries.

“Get Ace to take you outside, it’s nicer than in here.” Marco turns to Rouge, and she waves at him, encouraging him.

Marco isn’t sure what to expect when he enters the waiting room. He spots Ace easily, though he hasn’t noticed Marco yet, head tilted to one side as he watches some animal documentary on the tv there.

He, like Marco, has horns on his head. They are the same blue as Marco’s fingertips, fading to a cool yellow, and Marco’s lower lip wobbles. He covers his mouth with a hand, but a sound must have escaped, for Ace’s head snaps up and he runs across the room, stopping before Marco.

“Marco,” he calls softly, setting his hands on Marco’s arm. “What’s wrong, are you okay?”

Marco sees Ace look worriedly behind him, to Rouge, before he walks closer, wrapping his arms around Marco fully. He holds him tightly, and Marco buries his head in Ace’s shoulder, inhaling Ace’s scent. It calms him a little, and he manages to even his breathing, pulling back with a wide smile.

“The garden is free,” Rouge says gently, and they separate, Ace leading Marco from the building. Neither of them can stop smiling, and Marco laughs when they reach a beautiful flower garden.

“Are you sure we’re not on earth,” he jokes, and Ace pulls him close, kissing him gently. His breath brushes over Marco’s cheeks as they part, and Marco isn’t ready to let go of Ace just yet. He kisses Ace properly, pulling away quickly.

“I told you, you humans have it all wrong.” Ace links his hand with Marco’s, his freckles sparking in bright colours, dancing in delight.

“I have so much to teach you,” Ace says excitedly, and they begin walking slowly around the gardens.

It is different to earth, Marco can see now, and he looks at the flowers he has never seen before, taking in the scents he’s never smelled before. He really does have so much to learn, and he has never been more excited.

“We need to find out what kind of spirit you are, then we can go house hunting, then I can introduce you to the rest of my family and-“ Ace breaks off, shaking his head. “There is so much to do, and we have so much time!”

Ace has never made it a secret how limited humans are for time, but now they have all the time in the world, and he cannot wait to spend it with Ace.

“It’ll be a bit harder for us if my father steps down from ruling as I’ll probably take his place, but we can manage.” Ace looks hopeful, and Marco wants to say they’ll meet any challenges when he realises something.

“You’re basically the prince of this realm,” Marco says, closing his eyes for a moment. He shouldn’t be surprised, Ace does like his mysteries.

“Did I forget to mention that?” Ace says with a grin, stroking Marco’s face, as if he still can’t believe he is there.

“What’s life without a few surprises,” Marco replies, wrapping his arms around Ace and kissing him fiercely, in a way he hasn’t been able to in years. Their horns knock together slightly, and the sensation sends shivers down Marco’s spine.

They each have a part of themselves on the other, and Marco knows his horns are the most treasured part of himself now. He doesn’t expect demon life to continue to be as easy as it has so far, and he knows Ace still has some kinks to work out with his father, but he is happy. They lived a mortal life, and now they get to live a demon’s, together, and that is what matters the most.


End file.
